


It was the rain

by Spring_Breeze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spring_Breeze/pseuds/Spring_Breeze
Summary: Severus Snape isn’t the hard-hearted, bitter man he pretends to be. Sometimes he can’t help but drop the facade, especially when he sees a young green-eyed boy at the brink of no return.
Relationships: Slight Severitus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	It was the rain

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry about the formatting!! This is a one shot so hopefully enjoy!)

“Immature, imbecilic dunderheads!” Severus Snape muttered with no small amount of frustration, clutching a quill in his hand with so much force that it snapped. The sharp ends of it drew blood from his palm, making him curse more. He quickly wiped it into his dark robes and set the quill down beside the red marked essay of a poor Hufflepuff second-year. Looking down at it once again, he took a broken end of the quill and scrawled out the failing grade on the top right. Throwing the quill end down once more, he stalked out of the room, hoping to see a Gryffindor to bully into submission to improve his mood.   
  


As he strolled outside, he thought back on the Triwizard Tournament’s ending. The boy had been distraught, barely able to stand over Cedric Diggory’s body and roughly pushed aside by Amos Diggory and Dumbledore. No, he did not care one bit for the little brat. But at least Potter’s words had been true; he saw proof of Voldemort’s return in his now extra-bold Dark Mark and the twinges it have sometimes. It hadn’t done that for the past thirteen years.

And then his mind wandered to Potter. Hoping to catch the James Potter lookalike in another act of mischief, he whipped out his wand (much to the fear of other students) and whispered, “Point Me Harry Potter.”   
  


The wand twirled aimlessly for a few seconds before settling on a direction, that still led to the outside of the castle. Severus looked at the reddening sky for a few moments before deciding that timing was a good excuse for detention. Walking onwards, his steps faltered when the realised where the boy was.

At the Hogwarts Memorial Grounds.

Several little, whitish plaques bore the well wishes to students who had passed away during their time at Hogwarts. His thoughts silenced for a few moments, in respect for the dead, before he peered around for Potter. 

Then he heard some gasps of breathing, and quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself before moving. The sounds grew to muffled sobs, and before long he was faced with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, curled up in a little ball and crying silently in front of Cedric Diggory’s plaque (which was the newest in the Grounds).

Severus would have turned back and left, in respect for the boy’s privacy and the fact that he would never get involved with Harry Potter and that the “mangy mutt should take care of the brat instead”, when Potter looked up. 

Severus worried for a moment that his Disillusionment Charm was not strong enough, but when he properly looked at Potter he discovered that the eyes were fixed somewhere beyond him, beyond the world. Seeing those impossibly green eyes was a punch to the gut, especially when they were so dull and despairing. Severus was struck with a sudden fear at the expression. 

His eyes slowly trailed downwards. Clutched in the Gryffindor’s hands was... a knife? 

He looked up again before his eyes narrowed in determination. Harry Potter could not deal with this on his own, and he obviously wasn’t. And no student’s eyes should be so blank, especially not Lily’s son. Lily’s eyes had been so vibrant and full of life that it actually hurt like a Crucio to see her son’s dying light. 

”Potter.” He said, in a neutral and almost soft tone. There was no reaction. He cursed and removed the Disillusionment Charm, and sighed in relief when those glassy, unfocused green eyes widened and focused on him. “Yes Potter, this isn’t your worst nightmare. This is real.” He sneered, attempting to stay in character. He cursed softly to himself when Potter’s face turned white as sheet. 

”Calm down. I won’t tell anyone, or make fun of you. This is, after all, something that old coot should have predicted happening.” He voiced his anger towards Dumbledore aloud. Some of the colour returned to Potter’s face, but it quickly faded again as he turned to look at the plaque. 

”Potter, no. Look here. I said look here! You blasted boy, if you don’t avert your eyes I shall use them for my potions and deduct countless points from Gryffindor simultaneously!” The boy finally turned reluctantly. 

”Listen to me. The death of Cedric Diggory,” he noted the flinch with a frown, “was NOT. Your. Fault.”

”But-“

”None of your imbecilic blabber. You didn’t cast the curse that killed him, nor had any intentions whatsoever to do so. Gryffindors and bloody hero complexes! You can’t protect everyone and no one expects you to, you foolish dunderhead!”

Severus’ harsh tones appeared to cut through Potter’s haze, and his eyes grew a little sharper. It was not enough, but it would do for now. Severus rubbed his hands and breathed, observing his breath becoming fog for a moment as the sky tumbled. Suddenly, rain pelted over them. Severus immediately threw up an Umbrella Charm, holding the transparent shied over the boy and motioning for him to get up. As they walked back to the castle, Severus pondered. 

He remembered the dark days after his mother had died and he had lost Lily’s friendship. The utter hopelessness and grief had been like a gaping wound. He reached out his hand, and Potter placed the small knife into it without prompting, making Severus heave a huge mental sigh of relief. Just wanting to die is different from self-harming tendencies, he thought. 

That brought back memories of the silver moon illuminating the empty corridors and shining through the windows as his sixteen-year old self cried tears of emptiness, and slashed through his wrists. He couldn’t ever bring himself to slit his throat, he had been and still was a coward. He looked down at Potter, the scrawny fourteen-year old who had almost followed the same path. Round droplets cling to his glasses, obscuring eyes that appeared beyond his age, with hastily wiped tear tracks and messy, wet hair. Somehow, he could not see James Potter anymore. The arrogant toerag was nowhere near this almost-broken boy. Somehow, when Severus looked down at Harry Potter, he could see himself. 

Severus tilted his head upwards, still keeping notice of the mud path they were walking on. A single, shining tear slid slowly down his cheek. He didn’t bother to wipe it off. “It was the rain,” he told himself. “Just the rain.” 

”Yes, it was just rain,” he thought, as he and Potter sipped hot chocolate in his quarters in comfortable silence. The boy didn’t have the same hopeless, close-to-death look. When the green eyes glanced into the fireplace at the dancing flames, he didn’t bother to deny the happiness and relief he felt at the expression of hope. He took another sip, the ghost of a smile on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, um, hi. My first Severitus (kinda?) fic, despite the fact that I’ve been reading those for at least two years. I’m really sorry about the formatting and if the characters are suddenly too weird or something, I would really REALLY appreciate feedback and constructive criticism. Thanks a LOT for bothering to read this trash.


End file.
